Silence Between Thoughts
by Klein - The Imperceptible
Summary: Plagued by a curious malady a foreign woman arrives in Yharnam seeking a cure in her final moments. What she receives goes beyond any form of cure that she could ever begin to imagine, and she is dragged along the winding path of self-realisation and madness that Yharnam truly is. -WORK IN PROGRESS-


The incessant drone of liquids dripping on the floor was the first sensory input to reach her as she stood in the dingy doorway. The second was the sight of a smashed vial of blood on the edge of the closest hospital bed, its contents sliding out onto the wooden floor, soaking it and leaking through the cracks. The site didn't faze the eccentric wheelchair bound man, who simply rolled forward into the room, leading the way. His sly grin never once left his face. After examining the dingy bedspread and general disarray of the clinic, she began to doubt the validity of Yharnam's medical expertise.

But Iryna would not be faltered by some… _dirt_. She had come so far to rid herself of her ailment, and queasiness would not help her now. This was the last stretch of her arduous journey, just sit down, ask for Paleblood, and be done with it. Taking a deep breath, she tentatively stepped into the room.

"Oh, don't mind the mess." Spoke the man in the chair, his grimy lantern attached to the hand rest dangling and swaying with the momentum of the chair. His chair creaked as it rolled along the floor to the other side of the clinic, "Just lay down somewhere and we'll get started."

Although still somewhat cautious, Iryna was over her initial fear. She slowly trudged over to the table, laying down careful. Her sodden, rain-soaked garb dampened the mattress, something that would only make it marginally more decrepit than before. While she was lying down she had time to properly think about what she was doing, as she realised that she was forgetting some minor details of her journey. She tried to blame it on fatigue, but upon attempting to recall the faces of her family she… couldn't.

A wave of panic set over her as she came to the conclusion that the disease was nearing its final stages. The end was drawing near, and soon her mind we be lost. She felt the symptoms of panic: rapid eye movement, sweat (indistinguishable from the water and mud she was drenched in), fluctuation of temperature, bleeding…

 _Wait, Bleeding?_

She could distinguish the blood trickling down her arm, coming out of the pores in her skin, from the water and mud. Blood simply felt different.

 _Oh no, no, no. No!_

She wasn't meant to start bleeding until right before death, that's how this thing worked. She didn't realise she had such little time left. In her panic, she held fast onto one single thought.

 _Paleblood._

She kept it cycling through her mind; a single word like an object caught in a maelstrom. Paleblood became the sole focus of her thoughts, her mind, even her very _existence_. Paleblood was all she needed to make it out alive.

As the wheelchair bound man, whom she just now noticed had bandages covering his eyes, made his way towards the bed, in the middle of asking what it was she needed, she simply screamed at the top of her frail lungs exactly what she needed

" **PALEBLOOD!** " And she did not stop there. Over and over again she kept saying Paleblood, until it whittled down to a spoken word, then a murmur. When she had been diminished to a whimper, the man spoke again, seemingly unfazed by her outburst.

"Oh, yes… Paleblood…" He spoke about Paleblood as though he were intimately familiar with it. He chuckled once, without humour, and continued; "Well you've come to the right place." He edged slightly closer, gesturing to the area around him as he went on "Yharnam _is_ the home of blood ministration, after all. You need only unravel its mystery."

As he went on the words made less and less sense to Iryna, as her panicked mind could barely process the connotations beyond the constant mantra of 'Paleblood'.

"But where's an outsider like yourself to begin?" He wheeled in even closer, the creaking of his chair betraying its run down condition. He leaned in until the lantern fully illuminated his bearded face with bandaged eyes, and he came nearly face-to-face with Iryna's crazed gaze. "Easy, with a bit of Yharnam blood of your own…"

Whenever Iryna blinked she saw a queer looking workshop amid an overrunning garden of white flowers and grave stones. She didn't know what it meant, but she could see it so well, picture it as if she were standing there on its cobblestoned steps. She could feel the flowers between her fingers, and the hard, old wood of the doorway.

"Now, let's begin the transfusion." He seemingly only just realised her state of panic, despite being blind, "Oh don't you worry. Whatever happens…"

Iryna felt the sharp prick of the rusty needle someway up her right arm. As she stared at the ceiling of the decrepit clinic, she blinked and saw the workshop in such great detail that she was convinced it was reality for a moment, but was back in the clinic seconds later.

"…You may think it all a mere bad dream…"

As he chuckled without humour for what felt like an eternity, Iryna woke up outside the workshop.

It was one thing to be told that one's very existence would cease to be in the near future, but it was another thing to feel the sensation of death at the end of one's time. Iryna was surprised at how peaceful it felt, but that illusion lasted for only a few moments. Her sense of proprioception told her that she was splayed out and face down on the ground. The side of her face was pressed up against cool, yet rough stone. A sense of dread came with the sudden realisation that she was not dead yet. The world had been cruel enough, was it so cruel as to refuse her peace now? The world was truly unfair.

If there ever were a blessing, it came in the form of clean clothes and clean skin, as Iryna couldn't feel the lingering mud and blood. She also came to the conclusion that she wasn't hungry, sleepy or in any sort of pain. In fact, she felt better than she had in years, aside from a lingering sense of wrongness in the back of her mind. Perhaps she was dead after all.

Reluctantly opening her eyes, Iryna came face to face with the stone flooring, and noticed that it had a somewhat peaceful hue to its colouring, something that defied her sense of logic. Digging her fingers into the ground and filling her nails with dirt - a sensation she had come to ignore - Iryna slowly pushed herself up onto her knees, peering upwards as she did so. What lay before her was the workshop she had glimpsed during the blood transfusion, but it somehow felt less real now that she was here, as opposed to when she was merely hallucinating it. Perhaps she was still hallucinating, or dreaming. Or maybe she was dead, and had transcended the mortal realm.

No matter the reason, she brought herself to a stand and took in her surroundings properly. Outside the fence of the workshop there was simply… Nothing. Amid the fog and grey clouds that stretched endlessly were stone pillars that reached up from an incalculable depth, yet ended right before the clouds. Hanging low and unnervingly large among the clouds was the moon. Iryna had never seen it so large before, and the lingering sense of wrongness convinced her to not worry too much about it. Looking back down, she was struck by a sombre thought.

The workshop was isolated amidst a literal sea of clouds, and this feeling of sudden isolation brought with it loneliness, something Iryna was near deathly afraid of. Even though she had long forgotten the faces of her past, she longed to be in their presence, to look upon their faces, to bathe in their presence as she wrapped her hands around their…

Iryna shook her head, confused as to where that thought had come from. She looked down at her hands with a questioning gaze; she was not a bad person, was she? Without memory, she would never know. It dawned on Iryna that she would never know if the faces of her past were friendly or hostile, as they were just faces in her damaged memory.

Turning back to the workshop Iryna took in the only other change from her hallucination, and that was the human sized doll lying in the garden adjacent the steps to the workshop proper, as though abandoned by someone of great size. The doll's earie porcelain face stared ahead, eyes wide open. Its clothes were tussled slightly in the near non-existent breeze of this realm.

As much as the sight confused her, it didn't capture Iryna's interest for long. She quickly moved up the steps towards the workshop proper, making an extra effort to look anywhere but the doll or the moon. She pressed her hands against the large, dark wooden door and heaved it open. The door was old, and had an odd reluctance to move. With some effort, it opened, and Iryna took in the interior. A single roomed building that appeared to be a cross between a workshop, a house, and a church. The various tools strung up along the wall as well as the workbench and coffer with copious storage room gave the impression of a workshop, and the fireplace lent the home-feel to it. The odd addition of an altar and candles at the far end of the room felt like a religious shrine of some kind, perhaps related to the strange Yharnam madness Iryna had remembered hearing about.

Strange that she could remember that, but nothing else from before.

Sitting in the middle of the room was an old man in ragged clothing sitting in a wheelchair. He leaned forward on a cane, an odd choice considering he already had a wheelchair, but then Iryna remembered the stairs out front. Maybe he occasionally wandered down to the garden out front? Where else was someone to travel in an isolated place such as this. He spoke before Iryna could open her mouth.

"Aha! You must be the new hunter!" He said, and something about his tone of voice suggested that he had been expecting her arrival without trepidation. He turned his face upwards to look at her with interest.

"Hunter?" She spoke aloud, and confused. She was surprised that she her vocal cords were not torn yet with all the stress she put them under on her arduous journey. "But I'm not…"

"Hmm, but you are." He said before she could regain her place in her sentence. "You came here for… A cure. Am I correct, Good Hunter?" Iryna was concerned that he knew so much when she herself knew so little.

"...Yes. Yes that's right." She managed after a few moments of deliberating with herself as to whether or not to bother responding. She eventually decided that she may as well, considering that there was seemingly no exit from this place.

"What is it they sent you after, Good Hunter? Money to pay for a cure? Medicine of some kind? Or, perhaps…" He looked up at the ceiling in thought for a few moments, his hands still firmly planted on his can. He slowly turned his gaze back to her, and finished his sentence "...Paleblood?"

At the mention of Paleblood, Iryna leapt forward, barely registering that the word had spurred her into action. She bound forward towards the man in the wheelchair, seizing him by the shoulders and screaming in his face.

"Where!? Where can I find it!? PLEASE!" As she screamed at his face saliva flung from her mouth, and her visage was not unlike that of a ravenous, desperate beast. The old man never faltered with the constant pleasant smile visage, and spoke calmly to the aggravated woman.

"Be calm, Good Hunter." He spoke, taking a hand off the cane and placing it on her shoulder. The act made Iryna falter in her stupor for a reason beyond her, and she found herself withdrawing backwards, breathing heavily. "Good, good…"

As Iryna slinked backwards a few steps, the man placed his hand back on the cane where it originally lay, and continued.

"Listen to me, Good Hunter, for my words will guide you through the coming hours." His tone slowly turned somewhat grim, and Iryna's hands dropped to her sides as she listened. "I am Gehrman, friend to you hunters. You're sure to be in a fine haze about now, but don't think too hard about all of this."

Iryna was a little bit confused, having no context whatsoever to base her response on, so she merely kept listening. Gehrman took a hand off of his steady cane and, reaching to the side of his wheelchair, picked up the cleaver that Iryna had failed to notice beforehand. He held it out to her, with an expectant look on his face.

"Just got out and kill a few beasts. It's for your own good." Iryna took the cleaver, and held it close. It was a dirtied piece of metal that appeared to extend on a centrifugal point. The cleaver blade was wrapped in haphazard bandages for reasons beyond Iryna, and was stained with old and dry blood. When she looked back up he was handing her another weapon, a blunderbuss this time. She grasped it, examining it very briefly before looking to Gehrman questioningly.

"B-but… What about Paleblood?" She asked, desperation tinging her words like an artistic shade.

"In time, Good Hunter. At the end of your hunt you shall find your precious Paleblood, and with it you will be freed from this dream." Dream? But the whole world felt so real to her, how could it be a dream? Perhaps he was talking about her experiences before. Were here memories mere fragments of her imagination? As she started to question Gehrman she felt an insistent tug at the hem of her trouser legs.

"What do you mean by _dream_?" She spoke feverishly and unknowingly clutched the two weapons to herself as a means of re-assurance. "Tell me, Gehrman! What in the name of all that is holy do you mean by a damnable dream?!" Iryna's voice once again rose to an aggravated pitch as she lost her temper. "TELL ME!"

Although Iryna was now leaning forward in what she deemed to be a threatening stance, yet she had forgotten about the weapons she now held. She had also forgotten about the light tugging at her hem, and thus failed to notice that she was sinking closer to the ground.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Good Hunter." Said Gehrman without a hint of his previous hospitality. It was at this moment that something at the edge of her peripheral vision commanded her attention.

As she peered slightly downwards she saw them. Small creatures with vaguely humanoid features that were tinged a blue hue, as though illuminated by the moon and nothing else. They clawed and grasped and tugged at her trouser leggings without rest pulling her into the ground, yet the movements were still quite lethargic.

"The Messengers have come to collect you for the hunt, it seems." Gehrman spoke grimly as Iryna disappeared from sight, taken by the messengers, "It is time for the hunt to begin… You'll get used to it," and suddenly his hospitable disposition returned "You know, it's just what hunters do."

Before Iryna could speak further, a small hand wrapped around her mouth, pulling her head backwards into unconsciousness.

Iryna awoke from the dream in a far worse off state than when she appeared there. She noted with disdain that she could feel the mud on her clothing, albeit it was now dried up and stuck to her form. The Cleaver and Blunderbuss were still clenched in her hands, another thing that defied her failing sense of logic. Her ears were soon assaulted by the sound of metal clashing against metal as someone to her left - the entrance if she recalled correctly - rummaged through the clinic's equipment. Iryna figured that maybe it was naive to think that she was still in the clinic considering the general nonsensical rhythm to events lately, so she opened her eyes to confirm.

She saw the clinic ceiling.

Iryna didn't know if she was elated or upset to be back in the clinic. She could be happy considering the fact that she _knew_ this place was real, but she barely trusted what she knew anymore. Or she could be upset knowing that being back here without Paleblood would spell the end of her life. She let out a pained sigh anyways to express her ambivalence, and the rummaging stopped. A head of pale hair popped into her peripheral vision cautiously, and she regarded them back with the same caution.

A woman clothed in robes of white was bent over the medical cabinet - which had become detached from the wall - and was in the process of searching it for anything intact. She stood suddenly, as though coming to a realisation.

"Oh! What have were here?" Said the robed woman in a distinctly Yharnam accent, one that Iryna had always found odd enough to be unnerving. "Oh, you aren't dead." She continued, crestfallen. Iryna let out another painful sigh, turning her gaze towards the ceiling and shaking her head.

"I feel dead" She said listlessly with a tinge of gloom, or perhaps boredom.

"Well, you certainly looked dead. Dead enough for me." Came the reply. There was some more shuffling as the robed woman stood and waded her way through the debris that was now scattered throughout the room. It wasn't that messy when Iryna received the transfusion. The woman came to a stop beside Iryna's bed, looking her up and down.

"An outsider, I suppose, and one who took an arduous journey to reach Yharnam. Might I ask your name, stranger?" She said, her accent slowly being covered over a clinical approach to conversation with Iryna found far more unnerving. She turned her eyes to the woman, eyes that felt so sore and strained by now. She truly felt small and frail, as though the world had sapped all semblance of life from her and left her hollow.

"...Iryna. My name is Iryna." She was surprised she could remember her own name. Perhaps it was not even her name, and just a foreign word she used to identify herself with.

"I see." She stuck out a hand, both for a common formal Yharnam greeting wherein two people grasp each other's hands and shake, as well as to help Iryna into a sitting position. "You may call me Iosefka. I am a doctor of sorts, and this is my clinic… Of sorts." Said Iosefka with a slight degree of trepidation.

Iryna grasped Iosefka's hand and allowed herself to be pulled into a sitting position. Flakes of dried mud and dirt cracked and fell away, and she found her entire body to be stiff. She had probably been asleep for far longer than she originally thought. Just now thinking that, she had no idea what she originally thought anyways. For all she knew she had slept for years; at least that would explain the mess the clinic was in now.

The simple act of sitting upwards made Iryna dizzy, and she brought a stiff hand to her forehead, groaning in discomfort

"A little under the weather, are we?" Iosefka commented, taking in Iryna's general state. The comment about her health made something tick over in Iryna's mind and she couldn't stop herself from asking:

"Wait a moment…" She said, eyes turning to Iosefka, "If you're a doctor, then why, or rather how, did you mistake me for being dead?" Her eyes turned accusatory as finally let go of Iosefka's hand. A slight sheepish grin accompanied the response.

"I did not think to check the health of the patients still here. It seems that after I returned from my... 'Leave', someone - or more likely some _thing_ \- made a mess of this place. Enough of a mess to tear up the patients downstairs." With those words Iryna considered herself somewhat lucky to have been spared by whatever happened.

Iosefka then decided to take great interest in the weapons Iryna had on her lap, "Ah, are those hunter's tools?" She said with some excitement. Iryna merely nodded lamely, as she supposed that's what they were. The words _'Good Hunter'_ echoed in her mind. "This is… fortuitous," Iosefka continued with a newly forming wry smile, "Most fortuitous indeed."

Iryna started to question this as she slung her legs off the table to stand up, "What do you mean?"

"Ah, you see, Dear Hunter, I am in need of certain services tonight - tonight specifically - and a hunter is just such a person to provide these services. Even if they are new to the whole thing." Iosefka's smile grew wider. Iryna stood up on her own two feet, trembling somewhat under the weight of her dirtied clothing and new weaponry. Her body had become frail from lack of nourishment and loss of blood, it seemed.

Iosefka noticed this and directed some concern her way before continuing on her line of thought, "I shall tell you what I mean soon, but first you need to get yourself cleaned up and in healthy condition. I can't have my newest hunter dying on me because I failed to look after her, hmm?" Iosefka pointed to a wall at the end of the room, "The clinic bath is through there. I generally use it as a wealthy supply of disinfectant, old but effective disinfectant, but you may use it to wash up. There's also a clean change of clothing somewhere over there. As for your health…"

Iosefka reached into the folds of her robe, withdrawing a vial of blood and a syringe attachment that appeared to fit on to the bottle-neck. "This is… _my_ blood, so treat it with care," Her smile had returned, "Simply place the syringe on the end, and inject wherever you deem most comfortable. It should reinvigorate you enough for the hunt." She handed the vial and syringe off to Iryna, who regarded it with caution.

After a moment of looking at it oddly, she placed the syringe on the bottle-neck slowly, and poised it above her thigh where a hole had torn in her trousers. She held her breath, bit her lip, and jabbed her leg with the syringe. The effects were immediate.

A ripple of energy coursed through her veins, and her limbs trembled and shook with spasms. She dropped to her knees and let go of the weapons she was still holding, unable to grasp them or even speak as this bizarre feeling overtook her body. Within moments it was over, and she did indeed feel invigorated. Standing up she could feel the lingering energy from the injection, and could feel her meagre strength returning. Picking up the weapons again, Iryna gave her thanks to Iosefka who grinned her wry grin at her, and motioned to the back room.

Iryna made her way across the debris strewn about towards the back room, her previous lethargy and aching gone. The mud was still inconvenient, but she was dealing with that. Walking into the room she saw that the doctor spoke the truth. Lying amongst strewn hospital beds was a large stone bath filled with a clear liquid, completely unsullied by the occasional splatter of dried blood on the surrounding bedsheets and waste-cloths.

There was also the aforementioned change of clothes, several in fact. All of them were hung up in a cabinet besides the medical equipment. There were several sets of reinforced leather garbs, coats, belts, etc. She supposed that they all looked like something she would expect a hunter of some description to wear. It was fitting given her newly appointed position one such person. She wasn't sure what she felt about being put in such a place. Could she hunt? Would she hunt? What was meant by the hunt? She had no answers to any of these yet they were all expected of her. So she decided to simply play along. She was lost without a cause now, Paleblood was as elusive to her as it was at the start of her journey.

After cleaning herself in the bath she chose a garb at random from the cabinet and donned it. A long coat of reinforced leather seemingly protected her from harm. A thin veil of an oddly sweet smelling silk material accompanied the garb, one that she supposed was to cover her mouth and nose with. The entire outfit was topped off with an angled hat frayed at the back ends, obviously designed to give some stylistic flair to the dull grey and brown of the entire outfit.

When she was done donning the garb Iryna walked back into the main room to hear what Iosefka had to say. The doctor had finished clearing the destroyed cabinet for intact items, and stood waiting patiently for Iryna to return. When she showed her face again, the thing veil pulled down to expose her face for now, the doctor regained the pleasantly odd smile.

"Ah, you do fill out the uniform _quite_ well, dear. Quite well indeed. We shall have you mopping up the streets of Yharnam with the best of them in no time." Said Iosefka with the pleasant air about her again.

"Pardon me but, ' _mopping up the streets_ '?" Iryna spoke with confusion, walking further into the room. Iosefka simply waved the question off with levity.

"More on that later, dear, first my business." Iosefka grabbed one of the chairs near her and dragged it into a clearing in the middle of the room, and did the same with a second. When both chairs were facing each other, she sat down and patted the other, saying "Take a seat, and we shall talk."

Iryna did as she was asked, slumping down in the seat and placing the weapons down at each side of the chair. Despite being full of energy she was still slightly lethargic, and despite the oddness of Iosefka's speech she had not yet lied, so Iryna felt safe in her presence.

"Good. Now, permit me to ask, but what do you know of our fine city Iryna?" Iosefka asked as she clasped her hands in her lap, the pleasant smile never once faltering.

"I'll admit… Not a great deal. I just came here looking for something" Said Iryna sombrely, and it struck her that she could question the doctor about the blood she was searching for. "Would you happen to know anything about Paleblood?"

At the mention of the word Paleblood all pleasantry disappeared from Iosefka's visage, a scowl that could shatter glass replaced it.

"Paleblood? Oh I know much of Paleblood, dear, but where did _you_ learn of it?" Iosefka asked accusingly.

"I… I do not remember" Iryna shrunk back into herself. Although she was taller than the doctor and armed, she was still afraid of her situation and intimidated by her.

"What do you mean? I pray to the Good Blood that you are lying to me because if you are…" She let her threat hang off the edge of her statement.

"I just _don't_. I don't understand why or how, but my memory is gone. I was after Paleblood to cure myself but of what I can no longer recall." Iryna spoke in frustration, her fists clenching on her lap. Iosefka seemed to calm at insistent response.

"Very well, I shall choose to believe you _for now_ -" She punctuated her words with a pointed finger, a means of physical punctuation seen only in Yharnam "-But I will tell you that if it is Paleblood you seek, you have come to the right place… And the right Woman." Having calmed down, Iosefka continued speaking. "I am a member of the Yharnam aristocracy, otherwise known as The Choir."

"...A religious order then?" Asked Iryna who recalled the vague tales of the strange Yharnam madness. Iosefka seemed to ponder this for a moment, before nodding.

"You could say that, yes." Iosefka appeared to think on it further before continuing, "The Choir Runs the Healing Church of Yharnam, the church is coincidentally the authority in Yharnam, and we... ' _Sponsor_ ' the hunts." The doctor practically spat the word sponsor; seems she at least had something against the concept.

"What are these hunts I hear about so often?" Interrupted Iryna with curiosity.

"You… do not know?" Asked Iosefka monotonously, seemingly dumbfounded. "It's of no consequence, I suppose." She continued, flippantly dismissing any serious connotations that the issue of Iryna's lack of knowledge could possibly bring about. "The hunts are conducted and carried out to expunge the disease the Yharnam harbours. The Beasts."

The term _Beasts_ served as a memory trigger for Iryna, and a flood of images, words and thoughts skirted through her peripheral vision, like watching dancers on the edge of consciousness. Dancers with elongated limbs covered in fur, sharpened canines, and _drenched in blood_. She had no idea where these images came from, but they frightened her greatly, great enough to show on her visage.

"So it seems you at least know of the beasts… is something the matter?" Iosefka leaned forward, brows furrowed with concern.

"N-no…" Iryna gulped worriedly, but otherwise calmed down as the images faded into obscurity, "...No I'm fine."

"If you insist." Iosefka leaned back again. It never occurred to Iryna that Iosefka's medical profession put her in a position to help with any problems she might be experiencing, physical or not.

"As I was saying." Iosefka cleared her throat before continuing. "The Hunts are designed to deal with the bestial threat to our citizenry, but it seems that allowing non-qualified hunters to join the Hunt was a heinous decision." Iosefka's tone turned grim, a common occurrence it seemed when Iryna was conversing with someone. "You see, the Hunters…" Iosefka trailed off ominously and in thought, perhaps deciding whether or not to divulge certain information to the new Hunter before her.

"What of the Hunters? Am I in danger?" Iryna spoke with an edge of panic but it was nothing compared to the fervored state she had worked herself up into when she first arrived in the clinic. Iosefka's response came after a considerable pause for thought.

"...No. No not at all. Disregard what I just said." The doctor's pleasant smile returned but there was something off about it. Iryna cursed her utter inability to read other people, which was something that she somehow remembered always failing to be able to do.

"Regardless, the citizenry of Yharnam have turned against us. As crazed by the thirst for blood as the beasts they condemn are." Continued the doctor with disdain in her voice, "The masses roaming the streets still believe they hunt the beasts, when in truth they _are_ the beasts hunting us. A shameful waste of life." Iosefka shook her head sadly. Iryna strangely felt that the sadness the doctor was exhibiting was merely for show.

"All those indoors are still completely sane and unharmed, yet that is becoming… difficult to maintain. You see, there are but a small few left; we are outnumbered by those who have taken up torch and pitchfork alike in the name of a false cause. So I require your assistance..." Iosefka trailed off, looking off to the side before staring directly into Iryna's eyes. "If you assist me with gathering the people of Yharnam that are still in the right set of mind, then I shall lead you and all of them to the Grand Cathedral. It is there that we may discuss the matter of Paleblood."

The promise of Paleblood nearly had her accepting without thought of consequence, but she restrained herself so she could think on it. She liked to think that she was immune to being baited into something potentially dangerous. She was a better person than that… Right?

Iryna let out an aggravated sigh and put her head in her hands, barely registering that Iosefka told her that she had time to think on it. Iryna was at a loss, so she decided to way up the situation as simply as possible in her mind.

She could no longer remember what ailed her mind and body that she so desperately needed Paleblood to cure. Was she even sick now? Did she need Paleblood? And what of who she was, who she _is_? No idea whatsoever presented itself.

Iryna came to the conclusion that simply because she had no idea was no excuse to feel sorry for herself. She made the decision then and there that she would redefine who she was, as whoever she had been was now lost to whatever disease had caused her so much trouble.

"Okay, I will do it." She said, sitting upright again. Oddly enough she neglected to mention her doubts about the necessity of Paleblood, but decided she would not worry about it. The wide grin returned to the robed doctor's face.

"Excellent!" Iosefka clasped her hands together in a seemingly universal gesture of joy. Iryna somehow doubted that it was the possibility of saving people that brought delight to Iosefka's visage, even if she was a doctor. Apparently Iosefka did not notice Iryna's slightly hitched eyebrow, else she would have questioned it. "I have searched the clinic whilst you were still dreaming soundlessly and have come up with nothing, so we may as well start moving right away. And one more thing; you speak to no one of The Choir, understand?" Iryna nodded glumly.

Iosefka rose to her feet and She followed. She was about to question how the doctor intended to defend herself, or if she were simply going to rely on Iryna - who had no idea if she were capable of combat at all - when the doctor pulled out a sharpened cane that was segmented along the shaft. The doctor jabbed the end against the ground, splintering a wooden plank and clicking the segments together into a single seamless shaft. Iosefka pointed towards the door that Iryna remembered first entering the clinic so long ago through with a smile on her face, "This way, if you will. If we do not make haste we will waste what little day-light he have left." Iosefka led the way, pushing debris out of her path with the cane.

Iryna stumbled over a displaced plank of wood from the floor shortly after Iosefka disappeared down the stairs. Looking down she saw something that did not fit. A letter sat there, unsullied by dust, dirt or grime. The letter consuming her attention she quickly snatched it up and looked at it whilst still following after the robed doctor. An elegant red wax seal that depicted a short chain link running vertically, with angled branches coming off of the intersections between the loops; the entire emblem ended in a point on the wax seal.

Iryna was about to remove the seal when the doctor's voice carried from upwards from downstairs, "Will you hurry up, dear?" Iryna decided to place it in one of the spare pouches adorning her garb, as the rest were filled with bullets and vials of blood.

Iryna hurried down the stairs to where Iosefka was leaning on her cane looking impatient. Just as Iosefka was about to speak the sounds of muffled yelling and fighting rose up from just outside the door. Iosefka quickly brought a finger to her lip - the universal gesture for keeping quiet - and flicking the hood of her robe over her head. She then crouched down out of sight of the window in the door. Iryna followed suite, bringing the face-mask up around her mouth and nose whilst catching a glimpse of the window.

She could barely make out a tall figure in damp clothing waving a torch angrily about, as well as the fact that there was still daylight to speak of. The figure was notably disproportionate, with limbs that extended and waved about with coordination, as well as a neck so long it looked disfigured and covered in fur. A beast, Iryna reckoned. That was all, however, and mere moments after having pressed herself up against the wall behind Iosefka in waiting she heard their cries.

At first it was in anger; the dirtied mob outside jeered and complained all at once at an unseen figure. But the tone slowly shifted and morphed into one of caution, and eventually fright. The sounds of a brawl flitted through the cracked and dried wood of the door. The end was punctuated by a wet sound, like a blade carving through meat.

After that silence reigned over the scene. As it dragged on it became clear to both Iryna and Iosefka that the apparent danger had passed. The doctor slowly rose to her feet, peering out of the window in the old door - a piece of decor horribly out of place amongst the generally gothic design of Yharnam's architecture. After taking a moment to assess the situation outside, Iosefka looked over her shoulder to the new Hunter, nodding curtly. Iryna stood up, cleaver at the ready in her right hand and blunderbuss aimed precariously in her left as Iosefka opened the door.

As they stepped out onto the cobblestoned street, the first thing that struck Iryna was the sheer foulness carried in the air. It smelt as if copious amounts of bodies had been burnt and desecrated, but that smell only _added_ to the foulness. What Iryna sensed was an overall atmosphere of wrongness. Everything about Yharnam, from the way it looked to the way it smelt just felt _wrong_ to Iryna.

Disregarding the general feeling she received, Iryna had to admit that the architecture of the city was quite striking. Towers and peaks over took each other in a constant and desperate attempt to reach the heavens; a testament to the eternal hubris of mankind.

But amongst the spires lay dirty, dank streets; rotten with diseased water, moss-covered stone and, now, the occasional decaying limb. The grease and grime ran between the spires like dirtied veins, all leading towards the heart of the city: the Grand Cathedral. Easily the most notable structure in all of Yharnam it stood amongst the towers and the veins, the beating heart of hope for the inhabitants of Yharnam. The church could cure any and all maladies that might ail the populace. All that the inhabitants had to go on regarding these abilities was the miracle blood that was distributed by the Church - a certain pale variety had drawn Iryna herself here. It really was quite ingenious, Iryna thought to herself.

What choice did the Yharnamites have but to believe that it was by divine will that the Church existed?

After shrugging her shoulders to dispel the stiffness that overtook them while she gazed at the scenery she drew her attention back to the surrounding area. A graveyard, to be precise. One with a fair few bodies _above_ ground as opposed to beneath it, oddly enough. But they all looked fresh; were these the victims of the scuffle they had heard earlier, Iryna wondered. Iosefka stood just before her with a slight frown etched onto her features, but otherwise appeared largely unperturbed. This changed a moment later when the sound of a boot shifting against the dusty stones was heard, and both women snapped their heads in the sounds general direction.

Crouched low behind a gravestone that appeared to be nigh-ancient not to far to Iryna's right was a man in a black garb, poised to strike yet with a look of hesitation. It appeared to Iryna that he had been trying to hide, but the weathered stone could do little to hide this hulking giant of a man.

That thought immediately had Iryna tensing her right hand around the cleaver's grip, but a moment of hesitation not unlike of that of the man's allowed her to see that, while large, he was by no means disproportionate like the man - No, _beast_ \- that she had witnessed out of the window before hand.

"You're no beast." The man and Iosefka said in unison, and Iryna was startled that the both of them spoke, having since forgotten that the doctor was right beside her. Iryna exhaled slowly and let her grip on the cleaver go weak with the perceived threat disposed of. Now all that remained was to garner answers from this man.

The black-garbed man slowly rose to his feet, lowering his weapons and allowing his features to come more fully into focus for Iryna. Amongst his frizzled and unkempt grey beard were small pieces of viscera, most likely from killing the beasts strewn about the graveyard. The only other notable feature was a bandage wrapped around his head, and blocking his right eye from view. The left - a green one - peered at the women cautiously, narrowed every so slightly. The rest of his face merely spoke of age - a man not one by a long shot - and naught more.

Beside Iryna, Iosefka flicked her gaze to the weathered grey scarf draped over the man and smiled nigh imperceptibly at the man. "A Father from abroad, I presume? 'tis well to see one of your ilk amongst the Hunt." She paused, then; "You _are_ on the Hunt, no?" The identified Hunter's gaze went to Iosefka and he nodded before speaking.

"Aye; Gascoigne is the name." he too took a pause to look at Iosefka's attire purposefully before continuing, "What brings a white-healer out at this hour?" Instead of responding immediately, Iosefka muttered to herself whilst looking off to the side;

"Yes, yes… This shall make things easier." She then turned her gaze to Gascoigne. "Hunter, I have need of your services. As one bound to the hunt you must heed my request on behalf of the Church." she spoke, her voice having lost any note of amiability, instead being forged of a commanding steel.

"That would depend, miss…?" Gascoigne spoke, leaving the sentence hanging for Iosefka to interject with her name, as she did promptly.

"Iosefka. I need to you to take care of my esteemed colleague-" at this she gestured to Iryna, he gazed at her questioningly "-and assist her with our efforts to secure all, currently, sane citizens within the nearest Church-occupied structure." Iosefka cleared her throat, before continuing. "This clinic behind me is one such place."

Gascoigne gazed at her thoughtfully, but before he could muster a response Iryna spoke up, "Wait just a moment; what's this about now? Will you be able to handle yourself?" she spoke fervently but soon felt like some kind of idiot because Gascoigne barked with a short, mirthless laugh.

"Did you knock your head or somethin' lass?" He said accusingly, his one visible eye narrowed suspiciously. While a nervous expression crossed over Iryna's features, Iosefka jumped to her rescue.

"I believe that you will find, Hunter, that she is quite foreign." Said the doctor, still with the steel etched into her voice. Gascoigne turned to her and spoke in an aggravated tone;

"I know that, healer. Did you really think I'd miss hair like that?" Gascoigne motioned with his left hand - which Iryna realised was wrapped around a blunderbuss similar to her own - at her head. She self-consciously brought one of the dirtied and greasy strands to bear before her eyes, peering at its dark shade. She then looked at the two Yharnamites and the beasts strewn about and realised that all the hair that adorned their head ranged from sandy on the beasts to searingly white on the doctor. She must have looked so out of place, Iryna thought to herself, to be standing there with such an unusual shade.

Frowning, she brushed the damp strand away from her vision to glare at Gascoigne who was still eyeing her suspiciously; as though she were an alien.

" _To answer your first question_ -" Iosefka suddenly spoke heatedly to Iryna, attempting to dispel the hostilities, "-Yes, I can. I need not the assistance of either yourself or Gascoigne." the doctor let out a sigh, then continued. "You, however, are an amnesiac foreigner; I suggest you simply accompany him and acquaint yourself with your new arsenal and duty alike." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a curt nod in Iryna's direction, commanding her attention.

She eventually broke away her pointed glare to look at Iosefka and nodded half-heartedly, mumbling: "If you insist…"

The doctor's previous charm - which Iryna was now beginning to belief was naught but an act - made a sudden return as she clapped her hands together jovially; "Excellent!" The grin had also returned, and Iryna got the feeling that she'd come to despise that expression. It was so unbefitting, so out-of-place, so-

Iryna was broken out of her thoughts when Gascoigne - who had apparently moved while she was lost in thought - clasped her by the shoulder and shoved her towards a gate leading out to the left of the clinic entrance.

"We'll make no delays, Healer. With me, lass."

"I trust you know that I actually _have_ a name!" Iryna huffed indignantly, a decision deemed unwise moments later as Gascoigne stopped to leer at her.

"I don't want no lip from you; I am the senior Hunter here and you will respect that. Am I clear?"Iryna peered over her shoulder to attempt to meet Iosefka's gaze for support, but the Doctor had already walked through a gate on the opposite side of the graveyard. Schooling her expression, Iryna stared up at his leer, meeting it levelly and trying her best not to look fearful. Schooling her expression further, she responded plainly.

"Iryna."

"Let's go."


End file.
